


An Angel in Brooklyn

by shipyard98



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Assault, Awkward Crush, Awkward Romance, Brooklyn, Crushes, F/M, Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gang Violence, Good Boyfriend Spot Conlon, Newspapers, Slow Build, Slow Romance, Soft Spot Conlon, Spot Conlon is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 18:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15891399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipyard98/pseuds/shipyard98
Summary: While on a business trip to New York, the reader is attacked by a group of thugs. Luckily, the well-known Brooklyn Newsie Spot Conlon steps in and saves you. A strange start to a relationship, but a start nonetheless.





	1. Salvation

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t condone sexual assault in any way, and I wouldn’t recommend reading the first bit if you have experienced it yourself. If you have, please contact the Sexual Assault Hotline at {800.656.4673}. Thank you.

It’s common knowledge that if you’re a pretty young lady out on the streets in the middle of the night, then you’re bound to run into trouble. However, you were the new kid. You didn’t think that every night would be filled with danger. In your mind, the walk home was going to be peaceful and boring.

You were going to be proven otherwise.

The streets of Brooklyn were softly illuminated by a mix between the moon, the street lamps, and the few lit windows. Silence pierced the air, save for the occasional sound of a scurrying rat. The few brick buildings that had absolutely no lit windows looked more like walls of darkness that were ready to swallow you up.

Anybody who lived there long enough would be used to this scene, but you weren’t one of them. It was like wandering into a part of town you had never seen before.

Soon enough, you heard a few footsteps following closely behind you.

Turning around revealed to you three tall men, who were taking large steps and soon had their arms outstretched.

Before you could even think to run, they had taken hold of your arms and had covered your mouth with a foul-tasting rag. They quickly dragged you into a nearby alley, where you were pinned against a wall by two of the men while one of them hovered over you.

“Goin’ somewhere, pretty lady?” he asked, his breath smelling like alcohol.

Your eyes were wide and unblinking. Every nerve in your body screamed at you to do something to try and get out of there, but a part of your brain wasn’t sure of what you even could do. Screaming was out of the question and you feared that if you did move, they would only hurt you more. So, you just sat there, staring at him with tears forming in your eyes.

The man in front of you caressed your face with a pretend softness.

“Oh, relax sugar,” he purred as his lips curled up into a nasty grin. “We won’t do ya no harm. Least not too much.”

The fingers on both of his hands reached for your blouse and were starting to pluck each button right out of their holes when an angry voice coming from your right interrupted him.

“Ey! Whaddaya think ya doin’? Get offa ‘er!”

You and the men looked to see who had just said that.

In the darkness, you could see the silhouette of a guy no taller than 5’4. His arms appeared muscly and his clothes were very much like the clothes you have seen the newsboys wear.

To your attackers, this guy wasn’t a threat. In fact, his appearance only made them cackle.

“Well, well, well,” the apparent leader chuckled as he walked towards him and away from you. It was obvious that the man practically towered over the newcomer, so you couldn’t help but wince at the thought that the poor guy’s efforts were for nothing.

“If it ain’t the little big boy 'imself. Comin’ to play hero, tough shot?”

To your and the other two men’s surprise, the leader’s head coiled back with a deafening crack. Apparently, your savior had landed a solid punch in the man’s jaw. Of course, this made him angry, and he instructed his goons to let you go so they could collectively deal with the problem.

You crumpled to the ground as their grips suddenly vanished. For a moment, you wanted to run. However, a sense of curiosity and dutifulness grounded you there to watch the fight.

From where you sat, all three of the men were evidently no match for their shorter opponent. Heads reeled back and spines curved towards you with accompanying groans and shouts. The battle seemed like it was slowly turning in the thugs’ favor, as more groans came from your savior.

This compelled you to act.

You quickly stood up and ran over to the leader, running straight into him. He turned towards you and grabbed you by the blouse collar. This gave an advantage to his shorter opponent, as he gave him a swift kick in the groin that sent him falling to his knees. The other two stopped to tend to their leader, who instructed them to flee.

After making sure they were gone, you made your way over to the stranger, who was now standing with his arms crossed and not taking his eyes off the path the thugs had taken. Upon closer inspection, you saw that he had the face of a very attractive young man, with a few bruises and scrapes littering it.

His eyes snapped back to you as soon as you had partially emerged from the shadows.

“You okay?”

In a soft voice, you replied, “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

“You ain’t from around ‘ere, are ya?” he said with suspicion in his voice.

Rather than give him a verbal response, you shook your head no. This was met with a bit of a sigh.

“I don’t wanna know what coulda happened if I hadn’t heard nothin’,” the young man said as he uncrossed his arms. He extended a hand towards you.

“Name’s Spot. I’m the leader of the Brooklyn Newsies.”

You took his hand and shook it as you gave him your name. Spot hummed quietly. He leaned closer to you, presumably to get a better look at you through the darkness.

“Don’t tell nobody I said this,” he said, his voice suddenly getting low. “But I think that’s a pretty name ya got.”

This took you by surprise a little bit.

“Uhm… thanks.”

Spot turned his head over to his left and right before turning his gaze back to you.

“Where ya stayin’?”

After telling him you lived just a few blocks the road, he said that he was going to walk you home. It was safer than just sending you on your way, according to him. You were very skeptical at first, but then after reminding yourself that he did save you, you decided that he was trustworthy and agreed to let him escort you.

The rest of the walk home was quiet and uneventful. Every so often, you would glance over at Spot, whose hands were balled into fists and whose eyes had a mean glare. For a guy as short as Spot, he sure had a lot of fight in him.

Eventually, you two were standing in front of your apartment building. Up until you started walking up the stairs, you thought that was the end of that. However, you heard Spot’s voice call your name as soon as your foot hit the top step. You turned around to face him, and you were a little surprised to see that his “tough guy” expression softened by just a little bit and his hands had unfurled.

“How long ya gonna be in town for?”

“At the least, a week or two. Why do you ask?”

He rubbed at the back of his neck before answering, with his eyes looking at yours.

“I was just gonna say… Well… If ya lookin’ for help, I’ll be ‘round.”

You smiled rather sweetly at him. Despite his rugged appearance, Spot seemed to be one of the few decent people you’ve met outside of your job.

“You’re so sweet,” you replied, which only seemed to make his face scrunch up a little.

“Don’t tell no Newsie I’m doin’ this for ya, or I might change my mind.”

You shook your head in playful scorn as you waved him goodnight. Just as soon as you were heading into the building, you decided to watch him leave through the window. Apparently, he didn’t start heading down the street until he was sure you were inside.

This was going to be an interesting trip.


	2. Giving Thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the assault proves itself to be a little tense, as you work up the courage to thank Spot with an invitation to your place for dinner.

The light of an early morning sun leaked through the curtains, casting a faint glow around the room. Sounds of busy people crowding the streets below could be heard from your apartment. In theory, these two aspects put together should have easily pulled you out of bed, but surprisingly they didn’t. 

Instead, it was one familiar voice that made your eyes open wide.

“Extra, extra! Getcha papes ‘ere! Extra special! Papes for a nickel!”

You barely heard it from your window, but it was enough to make you jump out of bed and have a look.

Sure enough, there was Spot with a newspaper in hand. You watched him for a moment, and you noted that he seemed a little less tense than the night before. 

This was probably a good time to go downstairs, start the day, and thank the Newsie for what he did for you.

You were practically in a hurry getting dressed. Paranoia took up your head and convinced you that he wasn’t going to be hanging around much longer. And you certainly didn’t want that happening.

Spot wasn’t paying much attention to the apartment complex; he was just doing his job. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t feeling a little nervous already, though he wasn’t ready to admit it. It was only the sound of a pair of shoes trotting down the stairs to the front door that made him break his routine for a moment. He turned his head and simply watched you approach him, seemingly unsure of how to react to your presence.

“Hello again,” you said as soon as you got within inches of him.

“Hey.”

You needed to pause for a moment. In the dim light of the street lamps, you didn’t have a chance to get a good look at him. So, noticing how handsome he was somewhat alarmed you.

“I never got a chance to really thank you for what you did last night.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he muttered with a shrug.

“No, really,” you said while putting a hand on his arm. “If you weren’t there, then… I don’t even want to know what would’ve happened.”

“I mean, I couldn’t just do nothin’,” he said rather quickly, his pupils darting to the bottom-left corners of his eyes.

Both of your hands rested on his shoulders and a deep breath passed into your lungs before you continued.

“I wanted to thank you with a homecooked meal at my place tonight.”

Spot’s eyes looked right into yours in a way that told you he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. He leaned closer to you before speaking in a quieter tone.

“Look ‘ere, (Y/N), you really don’t gotta do that for me.”

“But I want to, Spot. It’s the least I can do.”

To you, it was like the world was suddenly standing still as he was trying to come up with a response. You silently prayed that he couldn’t feel your heart beating so quickly through your hands. Finally, he spoke again.

“Well, I guess there ain’t no way I could say no to ya.”

You smiled at him as a quiet thank you, and in a blurry moment, your lips pressed themselves against his right cheek. This was met with him taking a sudden step away from you. One of his hands was covering the kissed cheek, but it was quite obvious that both of them were turning a few shades darker.

“I’m gonna allow that.”

A smile stretched along your lips, even though you’d rather be running away from the situation out of pure embarrassment.

“I’ll see you later, then.”

You started to walk away from Spot, but just as you were about to round a corner, you couldn’t help but take one more glance at him. From where you were, you could see that he was doing the same routine as before, with a newspaper in his hand. However, something was very different.

For the first time since you met him, he was smiling.

The thought of him flooded your mind, and images of him loving on you were pleasantly distracting. They were so distracting, in fact, that you didn’t have time to register another figure accidentally running into you.

“Oh, excuse m-.”

Your words faded as you had a good look at who you just ran into.

A familiar figure stood over you, his face marked with dark bruises. Though the lights were dim the night before, you now immediately recognized that the man in front of you was your assailant.

With panic washing over you, your legs made slow and involuntary movements to back away from him. As soon as you begun doing so, it seemed as though he suddenly remembered you. His angry glare reinforced this idea.

“You again.”

Each step you took away from him made your heart beat louder in your chest. He pointed a finger right in your directing.

“I oughta make you and ya friend pay for last night.”

After looking around, he quickly put his hands back into his pockets.

“But… For now, I’ll just let ya know this ain’t the end.”

With that, he walked off in the opposite direction.

An urge to run back and warn Spot about the run-in raced through you. Some assurance that he could fend for himself, as well as a reminder that you were going to be late for work, convinced you to keep moving forward to the rest of your day.


End file.
